Sunday, April 22, 2012
Semana Santa, Part 1: Mendoza Madness
(Note to my bahiense friends: this idiom means that I was very happy. However, considering that clams do not smile, and in fact, do nothing really, it makes little sense. Maybe they are happy because they do nothing. Hmmmm. Anyways, on with the story!)
Just when I thought life couldn't get any better, the attendant whipped out the Bingo cards. This, I thought to myself, was very swanky. A rousing bus-wide game ensued, and I was on a roll, punching numbers like crazy, anxiously perched on the edge of my seat. With only a couple of numbers to go, victory was within reach. I was so busy practicing my Argentine pronunciation of 'BEEEENGO!' in my head, that I almost didn't notice when the passenger in front of me won the game, robbing me of of both my bingo glory, and a free bottle of wine. Despite this massive disappointment, I tried to stay positive. I reminded myself that the following afternoon I would be in Mendoza!
This was almost my ticket to glory and acclaim:
The next morning I awoke and glanced groggily at my cell phone. April 1st. I perked up immediately. It was April Fool's Day, or what I understand to be the Argentine equivalent of el Día de los Inocentes. In the U.S., April Fool's Day is essentially a free pass to engage in trickery of all sorts, ranging from small jokes, to full-fledged, highly involved pranks. It was a propitious morning, and I was feeling rather mischievous. I selected my target: Giulia.
Spongebob Squarepants knows what's up:
My friend Giulia, also on a Fulbright Scholarship, is living in Paraná, and we were to meet up in Mendoza to spend the week traveling together. My master plan went as follows: I sent Giulia a text message, explaining that my bus had broken down, that there wasn't another bus to Mendoza until late that night. Tragically, I was headed back to Bahía Blanca. I was so sorry. Could she please forgive me? I probably could not have pulled this off in person, but luckily Giulia could not hear my delighted chortles via text.
She totally bought it: Was I okay? Could I get my money back? My plan was unfolding famously until I arrived at her bus platform, ready to appear dramatically and shout, 'April Fool's!', (this is the essential, culminating step of any respectable April Fool's prank), and I found an empty bus. When I called Giulia and found out she was in a taxi, on her way to the hostel, she deduced from my awkwardly long silence that she had just been FOOLED!
Giulia's incredulous, too-relieved-to-be-travelling-with-a-friend-to-be-angry-at-me expression:
Once we had settled into our hostel and Giulia and fully recovered from my nearly perfectly executed prank, we met up with Leá and Sophie, my two French compañeras from Bahía. It was a beautiful day, and we headed to the Cerro de la Gloria in the Parque General San Martín. Atop the Cerro (hill), we admired an impressive monument to San Martín's Army of los Andes, commemorating the liberation of Argentina, Chile and Peru from the Spaniards.
Even more impressive than the statue however, was this young boy sitting at its base, wolfing down his own army-size bucket of ice cream. I considered asking him what flavors he was enjoying, but didn't want to interrupt his helado-induced religious experience:
In the beautiful Parque de San Martín, we unwound, drinking mate and soaking up the sun. I thought I had seen it all after the ice-cream boy, but then I saw cotton candy backpack man. I was beginning to see that Mendoza was full of wonders.
On the walk home, we admired some really cool street art. Here's Mona, probably enjoying some Argentine rock nacional:
Back at the hostel, the marvels of Mendoza continued to unfold. We were shown our room, and my jaw dropped before this triple-decker monstrosity of a bed. The bed at my hostel in Buenos Aires was half as high, and even then, I had to take a running start from across the room and awkwardly shimmy up the bedpost. Thinking I would be relegated to the top-top bunk, I silently considered my options: fall tragically to my doom, or sleep on the hardwood floor. Just when I was about to ask if there was some sort of liability form I should fill out, I was informed that I would be on the lower bunk. Phew.
That evening, I thought I heard the pitter-patter of rain outside. It simply could not be. Hadn't I read that it hardly ever rains in Mendoza? I consulted my guidebook: "the region gets little rain." Indeed, the rain seems to follow us Seattleites (translation: awesome people who live in Seattle), wherever we go. Enjoying the lovely, and oh-so-famililar sound of the rainfall, Giulia and I cooked a delicious pasta dinner in the hostel. Or rather, Giulia, who is an excellent cook, worked her magic in the kitchen, while I tried to help with simple tasks I could not mess up, i.e. gathering silverware and pouring drinks.
The following morning we set off for Maipú, one of Mendoza's celebrated vineyard regions. We rented bikes from Mr. Hugo, who runs a family business, and is renowned among hostel-goers for his friendliness and impressive supply of free wine. We embarked on our bike expedition, and though the gears were broken and Giulia's bike had a flat tire, nothing could dampen our spirits.
Tasty picada lunch....
..... paired, of course, with a very nice Malbec:
Throughout the day I attempted to appear knowledgeable by dramatically swirling my glass of wine and smelling its rich tannins. (Confession: I do not understand what tannins are, and frankly, seriously question whether anyone else does either.)
At the next vineyard, we entered the winery's lobby, only to find ourselves alone and unsure of where to go. Trying to be proactive, I proceeded to look for someone, and entered this room:
I got the feeling, often experienced by young children, that I was doing something I wasn't supposed to do. Naturally, I proceeded a wander around and take a closer look at the wine-making equipment. Once I was completely convinced that this was not the wine-tasting room, I stepped out, and to my great surprise, saw the sign pictured below. Unfortunately it was in English, so I couldn't even pretend like I didn't understand. Luckily my trespass went unnoticed, and we were able to taste some wines without any trouble.
We arrived safely back the hostel, content after a full day of tasting, pedaling, and frolicking. I was no closer to understanding tannins, but I'd say the day was nevertheless a grand success. Our next stop: Valle Fértil, San Juan. To be continued.....
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I'm now calling Mendoza's authorities for your trepassing wrong doings.
ReplyDeleteJust kidding. Great pictures! Glad you've enjoyed our buses, is the most widely form of transportation in this large country yet.
Giulia's expression is great, "why allison, why??"
Please don't tell on me :) You capture Giulia's expression perfectly in words! Thanks for reading!
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